Step threw the cab door open, glanced warily around, then gave Kalico a smile as he climbed down. “How’s life on the ocean, Supervisor?”

“As the saying goes, ‘clap-trappin’ and nerve-wrackin’.’ What’s new at PA?”

“Inga’s latest batch of rye whiskey came out like acid. She dumped the whole barrel and took her last good one out of storage. Sczui saw quetzal tracks at the edge of the bush. Got a drone up but couldn’t find it. Rand Kope brought in a ruby that’s the size of a goose egg. Lost it to Allison at The Jewel in what had to be the poker game of the century. I didn’t know Allison had any gift when it came to poker, but I guess Dan must have taught her something.”

“Oh, he taught her plenty,” Kalico muttered. “She cheats.”

Step made a face. “How?”

“Kalen was somewhere behind Kope? Maybe watching?”

“Yeah, you know, leans up against the wall so he can keep an eye on the place while Allison’s busy at . . .” Step’s visage darkened. “You telling me that’s how Dan always did it?”

“Along with sleight of hand. And the guy has implants. Allison wouldn’t have, couldn’t have. But come on, Step. You’re not that fricking innocent or naive.”

He grunted, scratched the stubble on jaw. “Hey, you know me, Supervisor. But how did you know?”

“Would I be worth spit as a Supervisor if I didn’t know when I was up against a rigged system?”

“Naw, guess not.” Step walked around, threw open the big cargo door in the back. “Got most of the stuff you asked for. The solar charger is the best I could scrounge up on such short notice. But, hey, it’s old. Maybe forty percent efficiency. I’ll have Sheyela Smith cobble together something better and more permanent.”

“Let us give you a hand with that.”

Together, Kalico, Michaela, and Step slid the heavy unit out of the airtruck, rolled it across the irregular and broken surface, and raised the solar panel on its mounts. The needles immediately showed the available charge. Opening the battery case, Kalico found a homemade lead-acid battery in a hand-blown glass case.

“Looks like some of Tori Ashan’s early work,” Kalico noted.

“Who’s Tori Ashan?” Michaela asked.

“Glassblower. Makes our windows and glasses and things,” Step told her, giving the woman a sidelong appraisal.

“One of those important people I was telling you about,” Kalico added, slapping a hand on the cover as she closed it. “Looks like the water level’s good. I’ll have Anna Gabarron make us a couple of gallons of distilled water and detail someone to keep it serviced each time we come through.”

“Where did you learn so much about old batteries?” Michaela wondered.